Roxas Has Returned
by essence007
Summary: Roxas left the Organzation, didn't he? But now, he has returned to face an imminent doom. Axel cannot help him, because he is the one torturing him. The life before them both is about to change drastically. And Sora...died?
1. Prologue

This is my brand new story, and is therefore the un-edited version of the one being posted on other sites. There will be more blood, gore, adult themes, swearing, and little things in this story that won't be in my other ones. This one doesn't have much in it, but the next ones will. Sorry for those of you who don't like that type of stuff but the story just wasn't right without them. And no, this isn't a yaoi story. Nothing more than Roxas's life in and out of the Organization, as well as trying to avoid being killed by them. I hope you like it.

Kingdom Hearts doesn't belong to me and probably never will.

IIIXxXxXIII

A Nobody is a conscious creature that exists for few purposes, a creation born of ignorance. In fact, the reason why it even exists is a mystery in itself. There are lesser Nobodies and there are higher Nobodies. Following the correct chain of command, the lesser ones are under the control of the higher. These higher Nobodies have taken human form through sheer force of will. Thus, in order to maintain their physical purpose, they have banded together against the race of humans in order to steal the one thing they lack: their emotions, their feelings, and their hearts. A Nobody cannot truly exist until they regain their personal heart. This is a reality for all Nobodies. But, there are a few exceptions…

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The light blinded his aqua blue eyes as he stared at the never ending twilight. Holding his gloved hand up to shield himself, he continued to look at the sun carefully. This could easily be his last time to see it so he wanted to consume every detail that the setting sun had to offer. The bright red clouds that encircled it held the power of pure water within their boughs; the midnight sky that lay above entrusted the humans below with its starry gazes; the ocean beneath rippled with the splashes of color in its midst; and the moon, trapped within its coal-black jail of a universe, awaited its turn at glorifying the night sky.

He sifted through his tan hair with his other hand and sighed a heavy sigh. A chance like this only came once, maybe twice in a lifetime. If he got another chance, he'd live it like there was no tomorrow. After all, this was like a second home to him. He redirected his gaze from the evening dusk to the journey that lay just ahead of him. Behind him sprouted hundreds of readily used buildings with interlaced paths and walkways. But leaning on one of the structures with a half-hearted smile on his face was another person who enjoyed the twilight just as much as he did.

"You ready?" asked the man. A mass of crimson red hair stuck out from underneath his blackened hood. His lithe figure adjusted to the dark cloak well. Beneath his hidden eyes were two distinct markings that resembled tear drops.

With a final expression of good-bye, the younger of the two men turned his somber head towards the evening sun.

"Yeah."

Strolling through the town brought back hundreds of forgotten and unforgotten memories. The two men remained in silence on their trip back to their original home. They never referred to it as a literal home; it was just a place where they could rest their heads at night. There was always that slight chance of an attack or a summons that conflicted with their so-called sleep. No, that place wasn't home. It was just another cage.

"Why did he send me here?" The younger suppressed the silence with his ominous words. The older flipped the hood off of his ruby head to address him like a normal friend would: without an obstruction.

"He wanted you to relive your memories."

"I've done that so many times it's hard to think straight. I have no clue which ones are really mine."

"That's the whole point. He wants you to be able to distinguish between the two sets. You have yours and he has his."

"I'm sick of it. I don't want to remember anything unless I have to. His memories are his alone; not mine. I don't want anything to do with him."

The auburn haired boy kept the expression of withdrawal fixed upon his face while the other tried desperately to think of something lively to say. His friend was always like this nowadays. There was sometimes no friend to speak of; just an empty shell who walked the halls and reminisced to himself.

"There's not much I can do about that," replied the redhead truthfully. "But we do need to get back."

Anger flitted through the teen's eyes so quickly that neither were sure if it had even been there. Going back to that place that their leader called home was somewhat of a nightmare. All it meant was that their true meaning was being thrust into their faces all over again. Out here, in the real world, they could experience life the way they were supposed to. But back at their jail cell, validity and honesty were rarely found. A symbol haunted them everywhere they went within that domicile. It reminded them time and time again of who they were and what their goal was. It reminded them every time they woke up, every time they went to sleep, every time their padded boots echoed through the hallways, and every time they spoke with the other occupants of their humble abode. There was no real reason to live in such a desolate place, but they had no choice.

"I know, I know." The boy's attitude now reflected sadness. His eyes drifted to the ground as he tried to clear his thoughts of his myriads of difficulties. The man put his light arm around the boy's shoulders with a friendly squeeze.

"You'll get through this. And I'll be there whenever you need me, okay? Well, 'cept when I'm drunk."

The teen was silent again through the older man's easy laughter. The recognition of his friend's comedic reply was meant to cheer him up, but it didn't. There was too much roaming around for his mind to handle. Focusing on the conversation was the least of his problems at the moment.

IIIXxXxXIII

"And that is the plight of this Organization. A mere boy has succumbed to the power of Light and is using his weapon against us. All we wish is to hold our hearts in the palm of our hands, and cherish that moment when we can be whole again. But he believes that his way is the only way of doing things. Therefore, I ask of you this: What shall we do with him?"

"I say we string him up!"

"Just let him try to come up against _us_!"

"Kill him."

The majority of the chaired figures nodded their heads in agreement to the later of the suggestions. Circling a small round room was thirteen all-white chairs of varying heights. Each one held a different person, but all of them bore the traditional midnight black cloak of their group.

"Leave him alone."

Twelve heads perked their ears towards the speaker of the redundant comment. The one who had spoken out was none other than the youngest one among them. He was currently staring at the marble floor below, a distant look in his eyes. He had obviously been trying to lecture to no one other than himself. The fact that anyone had even heard him was a surprise. Usually no one paid any attention to the new guy.

"You want to run that by us again Number XIII?"

The sapphire eyes of the boy remained still, unflinching towards the members who were staring him down.

_What the hell is he thinking?!_ The boy's jade-eyed friend sat with his arms crossed. If he had tried to speak out against the higher members of the Organization, the punishment would have been almost instantaneous. Unfortunately, that was what his young comrade had just done.

"I said, why don't we just leave him alone? It's not like he can hurt us or anything."

"Hmm, true," retorted the high pitched voice of a female. Her blond hair spiked back in two sections, making it seem like she could impale any of her male companions in an instant.

"That gives you no right to speak over the Superior!"

"Patience Vexen, he has his personal opinion just as the rest of us do." The ever-deepening tone of the group's leader clanged against the other's ears. His chair was elevated much higher than that of the rest, making it evident of his authority. "There may be some wisdom in the child's comment. But, do not let overconfidence be our downfall. We still have work to do if we are to gain our objective. We are still an Organization, an Order of sorts, if you will." The superior stood high in his chair to address the remainder of his seated disciples. "We are Organization XIII."

IIIXxXxXIII

Yes, nothing more than a prologue to what's coming.


	2. Crime and Punishment

The first chapter to a new story. Enjoy! And if you have a weak stomach, I seriously suggest you don't eat anything before reading this. Either that, or you're going to cry your eyes out. I know I did. (I hated writing this!) Anywayz, comment truthfully, or just read for your own pleasure.

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Darkness.

The Abyss.

Eternal Nightfall.

Nothingness.

Blinded by a soft, pure black cloth and pinned to a brick-layered wall was the demise of Number XIII. His wrists were bound with iron-clad links, the metal biting into his skin and leaving a trail of blood in their wake. His ankles were shod underneath an unimaginable weight, leaving him incapable of any motions. His fair-haired head was held low as he arose from his slumber. Around his mouth lay a chained bar that kept him speechless. An icy wind blew over his bare body, tickling old wounds. He could feel the edge of his spine rubbing up against the hardened texture of solid stone.

Roxas had awakened.

Leaning up as much as he could without injuring himself, Roxas used nothing but his remaining senses to decipher the room he was in. Cold, wet, and somewhat angering were the scattered vibes he was receiving from his surroundings. His entire figure was nearly frozen from the lack of clothes. The clanging metal above and below him didn't help the situation.

As much as he wished to believe that his being entrapped like this was no more than a cruel joke, something whispered to him that this was not the case. Every nerve in his body snapped.

"_He's just a kid! You can't do this to him!"_

"I_ won't be doing anything. You will."_

"_What?! Me?! There's no way!"_

"_You'll do it, or his death will be on your conscience."_

With whatever strength he had, Roxas pulled on his clattering chains but to no avail. He was trapped there, unless someone was going to come to his rescue. Small groans were released during his exhales. The rod that kept his mouth shut was starting to cut into his gums.

Anxiety took him over.

Roxas gripped the cufflinks as hard as he could, sweat draining out any other feeling he had at the moment. His chest heaved in frustration. Somehow, he had to get out of this. Screams from his mind were hurled at him continuously, making it obvious of the danger he was in. But who would do such a thing?

Footsteps.

Footsteps from the back of the room.

"_He left us. You must carry out the punishment."_

"_No! I said I won't do it!"_

"_And I said you will. Or would you like to explain to the Superior why a weakling like you isn't suitable to fight? Let alone take out a fellow member."_

The padded footing of boots echoed in the distance. Roxas instantly perked up at the sudden noise. His current position still wouldn't let him sit up as much as he would've liked, but he still could lift his head just enough to hear better. His blinded vision scanned the cave but the footsteps had stopped already. Roxas judged that they were very near to him. An eerie silence followed.

Then, the footsteps started again, heading right for him. They steadily became louder, and louder until they had stopped again. The breath of another being fell upon Roxas's bare skin.

Fingernails grinded into his face as the barrier between him and his speech was wrenched loose. The bar was gone. The teen gave way to coughing from the lack of oxygen. Still, the silence continued…

Until _he_ spoke.

"Roxas…"

That voice. That level of power. This warmth…

It _was_ him.

The boy sputtered out his words.

"Axel? What the heck's going on?!"

No mind in the world could comprehend the stillness between boy and man. No mind in the world could understand this pitiful representation of a friendship. The calm that surrounded them was both hurtful and spiteful at the same time.

Roxas was bewildered beyond reason at the events unfolding in front of his still blinded eyes. Confusion littered his thoughts like the plague. No where in his thoughts could he figure out why this was happening to him. He was chained like a dog and helpless to defend himself. The sweat dripping down his face seemed to him like rain drops that fueled his adrenaline. It was a heart-wrenching site to behold.

"Roxas…I…"

"What do you think you're doing? Get me out of this!"

No answer. Nothing but the echo of meaningless words.

"Axel?"

"I'm sorry."

"Huh? For what?" Roxas had no clue. He had no idea…

Of what was coming.

PAIN.

ANGER.

HATE.

BETRAYEL.

_PAIN_.

Roxas screamed out with every fiber of his nonexistent being. His face contorted into the worst expression of rage and pain possible to a Nobody. The length of his suffering seemed everlasting. He could hardly breathe from the incomprehensible agony.

And it wasn't over.

Number XIII's body was being mutilated with each strike. Roxas had the pleasure of not knowing his method of torture, but Axel knew. The older man's tears streaked down the side of his face, his weeping apparent to those sitting on the sidelines, watching this exhibition. The cat-o-nine-tails in his hand loosed over the teen's frail figure every few seconds, and each time it did, Axel's fake heart broke a little more. He didn't even care that the rest of the Organization was observing this entire event; all he cared about was how much he was hurting his friend.

Axel watched in horror as Roxas's upper and lower body split open with gushing wounds. His screams resonated with the entire cave, coming back every now and then to haunt the older man's miserable ears. Blood…crimson, metallic, flowing blood was strewn about the cave as well as all over the young blonde's pale stature. Nothing was comparable to the sight.

Roxas screamed again…

And again…

And again.

Every swing of the whip brought more anguish upon Roxas's body. He grinded his teeth as the tears of distress and pain flooded down his cheeks. Axel's own posture was failing, his body giving way from his grief.

"Enough."

Roxas had no where to go. This was the end of the road for him; he was sure of it. Death awaited in his near future, looming faithfully. He could feel the sticky fluids running down his chest and legs until it pooled down below him; the blood, sweat, and tears of a Nobody.

"He has had a sufficient amount for today, Number VIII. You have done well."

That voice. Roxas knew it. There was no mistaking it. It's deep tone, its level of authority…

The Superior.

All of Roxas's pain boiled into nothing but pure hatred at Axel, the Superior, and the Organization. At _everything_.

Unfortunately for him, the tears kept coming, like small stars falling out of the sky, but with no where to go except the ground below.

"You don't know why we're doing this, do you?"

Roxas didn't speak. He couldn't speak. How could anyone expect him to do so after such an ordeal?

"You will soon find out that betraying our Organization has its disadvantages. Come Number VIII."

Axel was reluctant to even leave the room. He took a gloved hand and wiped away the remaining tears on his face. He gazed in Roxas's direction. The vision given to him seemed like a blood-bath hung up on the wall for all to see, an image of pure torture. The backslashes of the whip crisscrossed the boy's chest, blood still spurting out of their freshly torn skin. His figure shivered from the relinquished pain. Axel's own body trembled from the thought of what he had just done.

Roxas mind was wiped of all belief that the Organization would ever do something like this. His reasoning was beyond doubt and had crossed the line into idiocy. Even Axel, the one whom he had once called a confident, had deceived him in the most abhorrent way.

There was no one left he, Roxas, Number XIII, could trust.

"So," continued that hated voice of the Superior, the leader, Number I of the reviled Organization XIII. His detestable laugh raised Roxas's hatred for him as it made its way into the room. "Nobodies can bleed after all."

IIIXxXxXIII

I'm sorry you had to endure that, faithful readers. It won't be as bad in the future. I promise. Or will it?


	3. Why? Part 1

This is only part 1 of Chapter 3, so I will put the second half up soon. For now, enjoy this half.

IIIXxXxXIII

"The boy endured longer than expected."

"Indeed. It seems his stamina has increased as well. It's an improvement; especially since the other boy has been destroyed."

"Mmm."

With slow paces, several members of the XIIIth Order cascaded through the silent halls of The World That Never Was. A few of them had made their way back to what they called "personal living quarters", but were nothing more than assigned rooms. Each had their reasons for leaving the main group. But these ones had been discussing the predicament of a single member in particular. Number XIII.

"Is the Superior going to let him live?"

"I'm not sure Zexion. He may just kill him and get it over with, but I doubt he'd let a keyblade-wielder slip through his fingers so easily. There's too much at stake with Number XIII around." The man who had spoken flicked his thick fingers through his short blonde hair. Earrings of all shapes and sizes made their way around the curve of his ears. His gentle, English accent couldn't be mistaken.

"Do you mean to say that the Superior is going to keep torturing him like this?"

"Torture? That's a fairly accusing word, Number VI." A man of equal stature, extremely tall compared to some of the others, brought down heavy words. His tone of voice was even heavier. Dreadlocks of the blackest kind came up around his bulky jaw line or were held up in a wrapping ponytail, swishing back and forth behind him as he walked.

Silence reverberated back and forth between the distinct Nobodies for quite some time. None of the other members wanted to go against Xaldin's comment, yet each of them were feeling a slight resentment at not doing so.

The result of not speaking caused many of them to turn corners and head off to their own respective places. After a while, only one was left, still strutting through the dungeon-like hallways, mystified by the sign that haunted every wall, every door, and every one of them; the sign of the Nobody.

The Cloaked Schemer held his chin in his hand and pondered over the days events. He didn't necessarily agree with the chosen form of punishment laid down on Number XIII, but he did understand the Superior's reasoning up to a point. Yet, there was still the matter of the child being no more than fifteen years old, and weak enough as it is. He should never have had to go through this so young, or even as an adult. Now, the boy had to endure so much more than what he bargained for.

_Still, I suppose it must be done, in order for the Superior to maintain a level of authority. But why would he do it so harshly?_

Zexion, the mastermind behind many of the Organization's plots and schemes, was feeling a small amount of doubt in the Superior's leadership.

"Zexion."

The Nobody, still wandering in his thoughts, looked up to see yet another member of Organization XIII standing in his line of sight. Long, dull blonde hair fell down the sides of his skinny face, his eyes a piercing blue.

"Vexen."

"Zexion, the Superior has asked me to relay an order to you."

"What is it?"

"You are to heal the prisoner."

"What? Why would he ask me to do something like that?"

"Would you like to ask the Superior and find out?"

"…No."

"Then I suggest you follow his orders."

"Wait, Vexen. Why aren't _you_ doing this? You specialize in this arena; not me."

"I do not question those who are higher than I am, Number VI. I suggest you do the same."

IIIXxXxXIII

After Zexion had cleaned out the supply closet of all his needed materials, the man made his way down intertwining hallways towards the room where Number XIII was being held. He continued to wonder where this Organization was going, why it was falling apart so easily. Zexion had always been a thinker on levels higher than anyone could imagine. His mind nit-picked at the littlest things, and it was those things that usually saved his life. Now, his thoughts were focused on the matter at hand. He analyzed the details, ins and outs, and every element within this affair. None of it made sense to him.

The massive marble gate before him wove intricate designs, each representing the symbol of the Nobody. Zexion only had to stand in front of the door in order for it to move silently out of his way, opening up to a dark, damp room. Number XIII lay somewhere within.

To his surprise, the boy was laying on top of a hospital-like bed in the middle of the room, his limbs held down by solid, leather straps, tightly binding his wrists and ankles especially. The blindfold he had been previously wearing was still there, still withholding the privilege of sight. A weightless and purely white blanket covered the lower half of his body. A bright light, possibly from the moon above the city, bore down on them both.

Number XIII's injuries were beyond killing him, but were still gruesome to look upon. Lashes flew across the boy's body with ease, like a ragged jigsaw puzzle. Blood had caked onto his skin yet but some of it still flowed vigorously. Bruises from previous endeavors discolored his frail form all the more. The boy's face had even degraded from a lively tan shade to a ghostly white.

Zexion stared at the child. He thought he felt a small glimmer of compassion come from somewhere in his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. Nobodies didn't feel anything. Compassion was a human emotion, impossible for someone like him to have.

Opening up the small medical kit, Zexion prepared suave, painkillers, bandages, and his stitching tools for a long, tiresome undertaking.

IIIXxXxXIII

Time appeared to fly by within the dark caresses of the cave. The Cloaked Schemer felt as if he had been working for hours on end. But, as most healers knew, once a job had begun, it couldn't be stopped until the subject was completely out of harm's way.

Wiping away a slip of sweat from off of his forehead, Zexion continued his work. All the while, his thoughts gave way to hundreds of questions. They all spun evil webs in the depths of his intricate mind. Usually, Zexion had no problem figuring out why the Superior would give out these strange orders, but with this, he still didn't have a clue.

Using the medical scissors in his kit, he cut the access material of a metallic string. Tying it down with firm knot, this marked the eighth lash stitched up on Number XIII's body.

No one at the castle knew the meaning of exasperating work until they overtook this type of career. Even then, they wouldn't care to do it in the first place.

Zexion did in fact wonder how the other members were taking this situation. Did they agree? Or did they exceedingly oppose? It was all a mystery in and of itself. Especially, Zexion questioned how one Nobody in particular was withstanding the entire affair.

Number VIII.


	4. Thoughts on Death

I meant to update this the other day and completely forgot about it. Oops.

Anyway, this chapter is completely from Axel's point of view. It's a very dark chapter, but I meant it to be that way. The second half of the previous chapter will be coming up next.

IIIXxXxXIII

A weighty sadness hung in the air like a fog after the storm.

The castle walls felt like a prison. No, they were a prison.

Nothing, no being in the world could comprehend the decaying life of Axel, Number VIII of the Organization.

He felt like he was fading fast. His fake heart was destroying him, killing him…

Slowly.

The binding hands of Death clouded his mind, entrapping him in thoughts of his own suicide.

He just wanted to die.

He wanted to be rid of all this pain welling up inside him.

He had no real reason to live.

Roxas would never forgive him.

_Ever. _

The question Axel pondered now was…

_Did Nobodies really die? _

A non-existent being, one that was never meant to truly exist at all, would just merely fade away? What happened after that?

The Superior had once spoken of a popular belief the humans of the outside world held dear:

The Afterlife.

It was where the soul of a dissipating body could flee to for sanctuary. But did Nobodies even have souls?

_…No. Something like that is only meant to give hope to those who are afraid of death. It just isn't possible..._

Holding his head in his hands, Axel grieved. There was no hope for him, for any Nobodies. Once a Nobody had died, there was nothing left to hold onto.

And Axel was dying from the inside out.

"You're taking this much better than I thought you would."

Destroying the calm air, Demyx had already overstayed his welcome. Axel didn't even acknowledge his presence except with a small twitch of his annoyed fingers.

'Knocking' obviously didn't exist in Number IX's vocabulary.

"There's a reason why I closed the door."

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It must have been hard doing that to your friend."

Several poignant nerves had been struck. "I'm fine. Now leave."

"You're a bad liar, man."

"I said get out."

Axel's words may have been calm but they were laved with an icy disposition. Demyx was prompted to inquire further, but decided against it. _Maybe,_ the young Nobody thought, _he just needs to be left alone._

Before leaving the room, the Melodious Nocturne turned back to gaze upon what he used to know as a friend.

The man's usually encouraging face had disintegrated into nothing more than a pale reflection. His once motivated jade eyes were now distant, cold, and unfeeling. His entire persona emanated with an unbearable loneliness. It didn't take much to realize just how much pain Axel was really in. It was no secret that he and Number XIII had shared a close bond, but Demyx didn't know just how close they really were. What he did know is that that friendship was eating Axel up inside. It was the reason for his suffering.

_How could someone like me ever help him? _

IIIXxXxXIII

Although he had indeed been comforted by Demyx's consideration, it did next to nothing in cheering him up. Slowly but surely, Axel could feel his life force being drained out of him. Somehow, he knew that his last thoughts would be filled with nothing but regret. Lashes of hate engulfed his mind, eroding away at his fake heart.

Unbeknownst to him, fiery gold eyes watched Axel from afar, studying his frail nature.

Soundlessly, a gate to the darkness appeared in a far corner of the room. Striking, whip-like pieces of black nothingness escaped from the door only to be sucked back in moments later. Not a single fragment of light could stain such an ominous void.

A black-coated man stepped out of the shadows, only to stare down at the pathetic excuse of a Nobody lying before him.

"Do you not understand? The pain you feel is irrelevant. Why do you try so hard? Toying with your fake emotions will not ease your sorrow. Accept that fact."

Finally, Axel raised his spiked head to face his intruder, thundering hate blazing in his eyes. Despite the figure's hood covering his face, Axel could still recognize the emotionless voice emerging from the darkness. It belonged to one person and one alone. No other Nobody in the Organization had such a careless and unfeeling tone.

Saix, the Luna Diviner.

With a single flick of the wrist, Number VII revealed the passive expression of his scarred face. The neon, cerulean color of his hair made him stand out easily, but the massive 'X' in the middle of his pale features was what defined him. Saix, a berserker among the Organization, was none too friendly with anyone. Axel was no exception.

"What a meaningless effort. You call Number XIII your friend, yet you haven't even tried to see him after his ordeal. How can someone like you be an entitled companion?"

Axel's hate pushed his adrenaline even farther up the scale. Saix knew this.

He had been waiting for it.

"You'll never be that boy's friend. I doubt he even trusts you anymore. In fact, I guarantee it."

"Shut-up!"

"Oh, finally a reaction."

"You're the ones who made me do that to him!"

"And you blame us for an order you carried out with your own hands?"

"Yes!"

"Hmph. Typical." The berserker held back his own anger until it was the right time. He was known for his impressive strength, not when he was in this impure human form, but when his body took on a new appearance, gaining the power of the moon. "The darkness is fueling your energy. Are you hoping it will overtake you, so you can be rid of this fake pain? How pathetic."

"Why you sick son-of-a-!" Axel couldn't finish. He wasn't even allowed to move. The revolving spikes of a claymore were only mere centimeters away from his face, with Saix at the helm. Fear had brushed Axel's mind for a split second, but was immediately overcome by determined rage.

"You believe in this so-called friendship, don't you? Then understand this: a punishment is all the more severe when it is dealt out by a friend. You now know why the Superior chose you in carrying out the order. No one else had such a connection to Number XIII. And no one else would be in such a pitiable state afterwards. To tell you the truth, it's slightly amusing."

The temptations of pounding Saix into the floor held Axel's subconscious intact. Fighting those feelings was difficult, but not unbearable. A small spark of fire had lit inside of his balled up fists, reflecting just how torn up he actually was.

"His next beating is in the morning. I suggest you prepare yourself." Axel's eyes popped open. _Again?!_ Roxas couldn't handle another nightmare like his previous one, and neither could Axel. With intense eyes, he watched the Luna Diviner lower his weapon, and leave the room nonchalantly.

A revolution struck him.

_I have to get him out of here. _

IIIXxXxXIII


	5. Why? Part 2

The second half to "Why?"

I want address something that a few of my faithful readers have been asking about, and that is the relationship of AkuRoku. Sorry, but this story won't have any of that. I believe in guys being just plain old friends, so sorry to dissapoint you. Please, enjoy the chapter.

IIIXxXxXIII

With steady hands, Zexion cut the last metallic string away from Number XIII's body. As if the number was symbolic, there were now thirteen lacing scars running their race all over the boy's skin.

_It's finally over. _

Although, his task wasn't truly over just yet. Preparing his cleaning tools, the Cloaked Schemer began the process of cleansing the boy's wounds so no aftereffect of infection would come about. 'Arduous' was one word for it.

Zexion stared heavily at the pale face of Number XIII. It was as if the boy was a ghost of himself, just sleeping right through his near-death experience. The boy was so calm, so peaceful on that hospital-like table.

_Unfortunately, it's only a matter of time. _

Even though, Zexion himself hadn't a clue just what lay ahead for the teenager. The Superior hadn't given him the title 'The Key of Destiny' for no reason. No, this boy was fated for so much more than his current predicament. If so, what was the Superior's incentive behind this hideous act of punishment? If anything, Zexion knew that Number XIII's life was far from over.

Zexion turned his translucent gray-blue eyes back over to the boy's hidden features, studying them in silence. Moreover, what was the point of this blindfold? It's only purpose, as far as he could tell, was to keep the boy's virgin eyes from seeing what had happened to him. But now, there was no real reason for it. His injuries had been taken care of for the most part, so what was there left to see? Out of respect, the Cloaked Schemer began unraveling the tuft of black cloth from off of Number XIII's tan head.

Zexion never thought he would experience fear while being in the form of a Nobody. Or even fake fear for that matter. Along with the rest of his fellow Nobodies, they each felt a sense of pride at having no emotions. But, Zexion could never describe what he felt next.

With a stunned expression physically frozen onto his face, Number XIII was fully conscious. His wide, unbelieving blue eyes stared at the ceiling of the cave, void of Zexion's presence. Whole star systems unraveled in the depths of those irises.

_He's awake?! How is that possible? _

Zexion was stunned to say the least. His hands trembled. This went against all the laws of the human body. Even though they weren't fully human, their bodies were still susceptible to principle limits. How could a mere boy defy those limits? He had been fully aware of everything in his surroundings, including the surgery, despite the sleepers Zexion had given him. Number XIII had been aware of every single stitch, every puncture, every sting of pain that the Cloaked Schemer _knew _he had been feeling.

How could he be so near death and yet live?

Finally, Zexion had the courage to gaze right at Number XIII, and perhaps to even communicate with him.

"Roxas?" A blink was returned, though it still didn't confirm if Roxas had truly heard him speak. "Roxas, can you hear me?"

Staring up at the ceiling, Roxas held back his speech. Screams of fowl words clawed at his mind, wanting so badly to lash out at Zexion's stupid question. But, for some unknown reason, Number XIII hadn't been allowed the privilege of dialogue just yet. All he could do in return was moan out the words he wanted.

"Zex-i-on…" The Cloaked Schemer nearly jumped at the sudden verbalization.

_He shouldn't even be able to talk! _Zexion was absolutely amazed at the willpower Roxas was displaying. The pain inflicted upon him only hours before didn't restrain his vigor. Zexion was glad that Vexen hadn't been allowed to do this surgery; the urge to study the boy would have been too strong for him.

"Zex-ion…"

The older man wasn't sure what to say. Roxas's cobalt gaze had turned away from the roof of the cave and now watched him ferociously. The boy's hands were balled up into fists. Anger suppressed any other emotion that he felt.

"Why…why would…you do this?"

A question that deserved an answer.

"You left us Roxas. The Superior wasn't too fond of that."

"There was always…other ways…"

"I know. But that's not how this Organization works. You of all people should know that."

"But…I…I…"

"You really shouldn't be talking. Your vocal cords are being strained enough. If I have to, I'll give you something to help you sleep."

"N-N…no…"

"Fine. Painkillers then." As if by magic, Zexion had conjured up a medical needle with a greenish fluid swishing inside. Unfortunately, Roxas struggled against any sort of treatment.

"NO!" But Zexion had already administered the drug. Almost immediately, the boy had calmed down. The strained nerves in his face, arms, and neck disappeared. A giddy expression washed over his features.

_Hmm…I wonder if I gave him too much. _

A light laughter filled the room. Roxas was laughing? At a time like this?

"Zexion…Hey there duuuude…" Stiffly, Roxas was in fact speaking of his own accord. Even though, he was doing it in a slightly ridiculous way. "So…Am I all ready for…for the next fight?"

"What fight?"

"Ya know…Where Axel tried…to kill me?"

Zexion's realization came quickly and unexpectedly. Roxas, in his dimwitted state, had just answered the question that he, the Cloaked Schemer, could not. Roxas was being healed, not for his own personal benefit, but so the Superior could beat him senseless over and over and over again without any afterthought. It was so Roxas was at full health every time he was brought into the arena, so the Superior could see fresh blood whenever a fatal strike was brought down on the teen's body.

"They think it's funny."

"What's funny?"

"That they can bring you so close to death and then bring you back; like it meant nothing it all by fatally wounding you. It's comedic to them."

"And…you?"

"What about me?"

"Do…do you think it's funny?"

_An interesting inquiry and one with a substantial answer. _

"No. In fact, I do not. I find it extremely repulsive."

"I…I thought you would." Roxas's inebriated state was clouding his train of thought. What should have been an awfully painful experience for the teen was nothing more than a frightful day at the beach. How could he possibly be feeling this way?

"I always thought…that life was slow," started the teen. Zexion's ears perked up at this sudden wisdom. "It seemed to have its own pace. Now, the pendulum of days, months, years…it's all sped up of its own accord. I can't help but thinking that someday, that pendulum will just stop. And eventually, even life will stop."

_Intense wisdom is more like it. _Zexion was astounded by Number XIII's insight. A 15-year-old boy had the intelligence of an adult. How was he able to do that?

_CRASH!!! _

"What was that?!" Roxas only laughed at the noise.

"I'm taking him out of here."

"Who the hell are you?!" The Cloaked Schemer twisted and turned in every direction yet saw nothing but the shadows.

"Untie him. Now!"

"Alright!" Zexion fought with the leather and when it finally broke free of Number XIII's body, a lone figure jumped out at him, knocking him over onto his back. The next thing he knew, the table was empty.

Roxas was gone.

IIIXxXxXIII


	6. Fatal Passage

Ch. 6. This chapter was originally much longer than this, but I decided to put up the first half instead of letting you all wait until next week to recieve the whole thing. I appreciate the RxR, so thanks for reading! And I apologize massively to my awesome proofer TheMagnificentMomo, who I didn't send this chapter to in the first place. So sorry if there's a ton of obvious mistakes.

If you haven't seen the FM+ new cutscenes, I suggest heading over to to watch them. Otherwise, you won't understand some of the story. Thanks again!

IIIXxXxXIII

Lost in space and time,

Nowhere to be found,

Hidden from all-seeing eyes.

Axel ran as fast as he could and as hard as he could. A limp Roxas was slung across his back, garbed in nothing but the cloak Axel had hastily thrown on his bare skin.

_Keep moving, keep moving_, he told himself over and over again. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet, but the echoes were unmistakable as they made their way down the dungeon-like corridors of the castle. Keeping to the shadows as much as he could, Axel sprinted like someone running the ten mile marathon, flinching at every sound he heard. He stopped every couple hundred feet to catch his breath and to check on Roxas.

The boy was the color of a white linen sheet. His breathing was quick and irregular. His stone cold expression was unusually calm except for his gritted teeth.

_He doesn't have much time._

Axel tried to bottle up his negativity but there was no denying it.

Roxas was dying.

Axel thought tremendously hard about what to do. He was at a loss. Without sufficient treatment, Roxas wouldn't last the night. Zexion's healing could only do so much. Taking a gloved hand, Axel rubbed his left shoulder, the spot where he Roxas had just been. The pin-pricks of the teen's stitches had clawed their way through his coat and into the skin.

Axel didn't know what to do.

He looked at Roxas's small figure lying on the floor. He could distinctly make out the lashes that he, Axel, had struck across his young friend's body. Unfortunately, he remembered just how easily the boy's skin had ripped right in half, oozing out excessive crimson-colored blood. It made it all the worse now that the two of them were on the run.

What was he supposed to do?

The Superior would never tolerate his rebellious behavior. Disobedience against the Organization would surely cause them both to have a one-way trip to their deathbeds. So, Axel had to make sure that they weren't caught. But first, he had to devise a way to leave the castle without causing too much stir. A vehicle perhaps? No. The Superior didn't have anything like that on hand. And dark portals could only take them so far. Some sort of travel was needed for them to leave permanently.

Without much thought, Axel opened up a portal to a world only a few of the other members knew about. Roxas would have to stay here in order for him to accomplish this newfound goal of his. The boy was hidden well underneath the stern gaze of the shadows, in a dark corner of the castle's hallway. It was a remote area that most of them didn't traverse, so Axel was fairly sure Roxas would be alright while he was gone.

_I'll be back soon little man, I promise._

IIIXxXxXIII

"You let them get away you incompetent imbecile!"

"You really thought we wouldn't notice?"

"For the last time, I didn't let them escape!" The Cloaked Schemer was on his last strings, fighting against his comrades for dominance. On his knees and tied up at the wrists, Zexion felt that he was now labeled a traitor among his fellow members for something he didn't do.

He felt a hard swipe across the side of his face, branding his cheek with a good-size bruise.

"Don't think lying will help you either. The Superior can see right through to your soul. Nothing can escape him."

_Who in their right minds let Larxene do the interrogations?! _But Zexion's thoughts were quickly becoming hazy. He had to think fast in order to get himself through. If Number XIII could endure far worse than this, so could he. Yet, there was one thing he knew of for certain.

This Organization was falling, right down into the devastating hands of chaos. And no one, not even the Superior, could possibly stop it.

IIIXxXxXIII

_What is this…light? Or darkness?_

_Am I dead?_

_Or alive?_

_Is any of this for real?_

_Or not?_

…_Where am I?_

A tingling sensation awakened within his arms and legs, returning his old senses. He was aware of some newfound power, growing steadily in the boughs of his body. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. But, all too quickly, he discerned everything that had happened to him. He felt naught but the sting of his sudden consciousness. Not the cold base of the floor, not the pain from his recently healed wounds, not the bite of the icy wind blowing around him.

He shuffled carefully, keeping noise and movement to a minimum.

_How did I get here?_

Stumbling over his own limbs, Roxas held his breath back, afraid of drawing attention. His natural instincts of survival kicked in at once. Pain racked up the side of his body, inflicting invisible blows to his ribs and chest. He traced his fingertips lightly across his skin and felt the scars almost immediately. Poking out of them were metallic sticks that held the bloodied wound together. Obviously, this healing hadn't done much to help him or he wouldn't be in this predicament.

Amazingly, and much to his own surprise, Roxas wasn't mad. He wasn't enraged, annoyed, or anything for that matter. He just felt nothing. It was the way a Nobody was supposed to feel. If anything, Roxas's uncertainty littered his mind and the surrounding space, engulfing him in utter confusion.

He knew almost immediately that Axel had been the one to save him. It wasn't that hard to guess. Although the older man had dealt the death blows, Axel was still the only man in the Organization that had the stamina to stand up to the Superior.

The question was…Why did Axel leave him behind?

Roxas knew there was a reason, but he decided to think about it later. For now, he needed to rest.

Memories of all kinds awoke in his deep slumber, culminating themselves in blurred dreams. Many of them were hard to distinguish between, but there were some that stood out clearly.

XIII

_"Damnit Roxas! What the hell's the matter with you?! You get on their bad side and they won't hesitate to kill you. Don't you understand that?"_

_"And who would miss me? Huh? Tell me that Axel!"_

_Roxas was elevated above the ground, held up only by Axel's strength. He had Roxas in a death grip at the neck, and up against a hard stone wall. Silence encased the surrounding air, but only for a few seconds. The battle of wits employed by the teen's eyes was stirring that silence up into bitter anger._

_"TELL ME!!!"_

_"I WOULD!!!"_

_"…What?"_

_Instantly, Roxas's lower half impacted the ground. Axel spoke with his back turned, hiding his irritation._

_"You just don't get it."_

XIII

_"Do you want to know?"_

_O-R-A-S. The letters flew around him in a defiant whirlwind._

_Roxas still remembered that fateful day when he had come into existence._

"_You feel nothing. You can feel nothing. Do you want a meaning?" He had answered the man's question with a 'yes', yet he knew not what would come of it._

"_Roxas."_

"_The new you."_

XIII

_Who was that?_

_A white haired boy, not much older than he._

_Was that a keyblade?_

"_Quit fooling around!"_

"_What's wrong Sora? Are you done already? Pretty pathetic."_

_Sora…he knew that name. But where from?_

"_What are you talking about?! You're the one who's losing!"_

_That voice…it wasn't his._

"_You really are his Nobody…"_

XIII

The memories faded from there on. There wasn't much left to his past. It all seemed to fly by. Roxas awoke to the heartless walls of the Castle That Never Was, still in the same spot he had been before.

He lamented that small amount of sleep, and wanted to succumb to the darkness once more. But he wasn't allowed that luxury.

A portal of darkness opened up directly in front of him, swallowing anything it could into the shadows, and leaving nothing but black in its wake.

_No, please, don't be…_

An eerie silence entered the hall as Roxas waited for someone to step through the gate.

Maybe someone who would finish him off.

Someone with no mercy.


	7. Moongazing

Everyone knows that it can take forever to write a (barely) good chapter. So, MASSIVE APOLOGIES TO MY FANS. Thank you for reading once again.

I don't own anything about KH, yet the storyline is mine. Period.

IIIXxXxXIII

Roxas closed his eyes, awaiting his eternal downfall.

"Wake up man!" said Axel, gently shaking the boy's shoulder. "Come on! We gotta move!"

"Axel?"

"Who else? Come on; can you walk?"

"I, I don't…"

"Well, here, let me help you." Without another word, Axel launched the weak Roxas onto a comfortable seat that adjusted to his small figure. It didn't take much to tell Roxas he was sitting on top of an expensive, fast, and sleek motorcycle.

The engine sputtered and coughed below him yet it sounded brand new. Dual tires were in place of a single tire on both ends of the bike. Rich, black paint covered the majority of it, and it was easy to tell it had been washed recently. There was room enough for two or three passengers, but Axel and Roxas were all it could take for now. A sweet, yet bitter, scent of gasoline pumped through the air, making the younger of the two Nobodies cough up small drops of blood.

A light, barely visible sticker on the underside of the handlebars read 'Strife Delivery Services'.

"Axel…where did you…?"

"I borrowed it. Don't worry, I'll give it back," the older man replied, lying through his teeth. With a swipe of his leg, Axel himself was sitting on the driver's half of the motorcycle with Roxas right behind him.

"But…you can't…drive…"

"Oh yes I can," Axel reached down into the caresses of his cloak and pulled out a small white book, obviously ravaged by time. "I read the manual. This'll be a piece of cake."

Roxas grimaced. He still wasn't sure if his trust in Axel was pure or not. But, maybe this would prove to the both of them just how strong their friendship really was.

The teen wrapped his frail fingers around Axel's coat, clenching them tightly together. He could still feel faint traces of a venomous toxin in his veins, but the drug was warily losing effect. The older man smiled in his direction.

"Ready?"

Roxas only nodded.

Axel waved his arm, and opened a portal to the darkness. Within seconds, Roxas, Axel, and the bike were immersed in its shadows, traveling through time and space, and leaving a trail of oil behind as their only legacy.

IIIXxXxXIII

Blinding light cascaded down upon them in waves, covering them and washing away any remaining darkness the portal had left over. Axel held his arm up to regain his sight, and took in all that there was to see around him.

"What the hell? Where are we?"

Roxas was startled that not even his supposed friend knew their destination. Nobodies usually had complete control over their abilities with the darkness, but Roxas had no idea how Axel had arrived here on accident.

Weak, cerulean irises scanned the area, but there wasn't much to see, thanks to the night sky. The moon was still hiding its face behind the clouds and wouldn't grant them the privilege of its rays just yet. Roxas could still make out an extremely rocky area with cliffs abounding on all sides of their current position. Dust clouds inhabited the land like livestock on a crowded farm. Axel's control over the bike was surprisingly firm and it let them see more than they thought.

Off in the distance, a massive stone kingdom was unearthed out of the ground. It seemed to be a giant mountain, made only of rocks and light. Roxas and Axel paled in comparison to its relentless size.

"What…is that?" asked Roxas. His sight had picked up a small figure in the distance; their outline only noticeable through the moon's restricted light. There was a few kilometers between the three of them. Roxas's limited vision blurred and he stumbled back into the motorcycle's seat. Axel looked back with concern on his face but then turned towards the human-like shape that was sitting on the skyline, seemingly waiting for them to make a move.

Without another thought, Axel revved the bike's motor to its fastest point, making it nearly impossible for him to slow down without damaging the bike itself. The speedometer in front of him swept past ninety in mere seconds, while Axel's grip on the motorcycle's handlebars grew tighter.

Roxas held on for dear life on the back seat of the bike. His blonde hair flicked back and forth in front of his eyes, blurring his sight. Quickly gazing past Axel's crouching shoulder, he could just barely make out the distant figure through the steady stream of soil impacting his irises. Pain from his side brought him back down into the seat. Leaning against Axel's tense back, Roxas awaited whatever it was that was ahead of them.

Unbeknownst to them, the moon above was just beginning to show its face, not withholding any of its pale light from the passerby's below. Its radiant outline reflected that of a glowing heart, and Axel immediately recognized it.

Kingdom Hearts; the light of their salvation, the source of Organization XIII, and the destination of all hearts whether wholesome or scathed. That moon held the hopes, dreams, and promises of thousands of hearts and it was where their precious Superior held his one and only obsession.

"Hang on!" screamed Axel, revving the bike one last time. He swerved back and forth across the grimy landscape, avoiding rocks of all shapes and sizes. No experience behind the wheel of a motorcycle caused his teeth to clench and sweat to rain from his forehead in desperation.

Roxas wrapped his fingers tightly around Axel's cloak, nearly ripping it apart. The wind blew his eyelids open, but he forced them shut.

Neither of them knew who it was waiting for them. Neither of them expected a frontal attack.

Out of nowhere, massive blocks of silver came rushing towards them, nearly colliding into the bike along with its passengers. Axel felt the wind pull at his ear as one of them flew right past him, ruffling his hair. He looked away for no more than a second, but it wasn't time enough. Another barrage came soaring after them, their destination bent on collision with Axel and Roxas.

_What the hell are those things?! _

The cloaked figure ahead had been waiting for them. The light of Kingdom Hearts above gave him energy, fueling his desire to kill. The figure screamed at the top of his lungs, wrenching apart his cloak in a beast-like manner.

_Saix! That bastard!_

"I told you I'd be waiting. I told you I'd find you. I told you…I told you…AAAGH!!!" The berserker's maniacal laughter turned quickly into vengeful yells. Saix pulled hard at his chest, his cloak tattered and ripped. His glowing gold eyes were sparking against the beam of Kingdom Hearts. Wind swept around him like a tornado, causing his hair and cloak to flail about. His weapons seemed to come from everywhere and anywhere, simply racing after the Nobodies without any will of their own.

Axel pulled a hard left to avoid several of the silver blurry claymores coming right at him. The protesting squeals of the tires echoed in his ears. Dust kicked up all around them, blocking their view.

"You can't escape me!"

With that, Saix renewed the chase and seemed to float towards the motorcycle, his face scrunched together like a closely knit web. Claymores of all shapes and sizes hissed by, mere inches from the scrambling Nobodies.

Axel grumbled under his breath.

"No. Not this time." Speeding across the landscape, Axel made a beeline for Saix, mustering up all the strength, courage, and power he could. _They'll pay for what they did to him._ Remembering the teen cowering behind him, Axel looked back at Roxas, admiring the boy's newfound strength. Quickly, the older man went back to the task at hand.

The yards passed away quickly, and Axel dodged everything that Saix threw at him. But the berserker Nobody could never be spent while in the light of Kingdom Hearts. Axel realized his race of time was running out. Even while throwing a few blazes of fire in the Luna Diviner's direction, Axel knew he couldn't stop Saix. Instead, he began devising a means of a desperate escape.

"What's wrong? Can't take the heat?!" Axel taunted, knowing that Saix avoided everything he had sent his way. But, as expected, Saix roared in anger.

"YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE ME!!!"

"Oh yeah?!" Axel yelled back. A chakram appeared haphazardly within his left hand in a flurry of flames. Axel threw it towards the berserker, intent on aggravating him all the more. Bit by bit, his plan was working.

Saix's power was overwhelming him to the point of annoyance. This insignificant Nobody, ranked lower than he, was actually putting up a fight. What angered Saix even more was that he hadn't beaten Axel yet, and that they were actually on a neutral stance with each other. Rage confused his thoughts, causing him to become even farther from human and closer to beast.

"Heh, gotcha now," Axel muttered. Summoning a portal far off in the distance, Axel rammed the motorcycle, head-on, into the Luna Diviner.

Blood spattered against the ground. The ominous sound of crunching bones and shredding skin left Roxas shuddering. Hailing forth from the skies was the remainder of the berserker's claymores. Without their master, the leftover weapons fell to the dirt, scattered about like the dust in the wind. Axel turned to look behind him before being swept off into the portal. All that was left to see was a moonlit outline, fractured and split apart on the soil. Blood had sprinkled their faces, creasing their souls with beast-DNA. Roxas knew what had happened, and he tightened his grip on Axel's coat, cutting into the older man's underlying skin.

He smirked. Axel had finally gotten the better of an old enemy. But he couldn't help feeling a slight resentment in the back of his thoughts. He had no real way to justify his actions. Self defense was the only answer he could come up with.

Speeding through the desert-like arena, the motorcycle careened through the darkness, heading straight for the portal ahead of them.

IIIXxXxXIII

A vague impression of sunlight hit the walls just right, reflecting off their surfaces and hitting a sleeping Roxas directly in the face. It was just enough to wake him from his deep, uneventful slumber. Roxas's over-sized cloak warmed his body yet he could still feel stitches poking into his skin. He tried to ignore the small pricks of pain and took in the area. The teen opened his eyes to familiar surroundings, but he couldn't quite tell exactly where he was. Obviously, he was in an alley, away from the prying eyes of the public, but it was hard to tell which world it was.

"Finally awake, huh?" Roxas nimbly lifted his head to see bright, ruby hair blocking the sun's rays. Axel jumped off the roof two stories up only to land directly beside Roxas. The older man leaned against the brick wall, his back arched but his expression calm.

"Where…am I?"

Axel only smiled.

"Home, Rox. You're home."

IIIXxXxXIII


	8. Trials

This chapter took me much longer than anticipated. I apologize to the fans. Forgive me!

Anywayz, nothing horrid or gruesome in this chapter. But, there definately will be some bad stuff in the next one.

Enjoy!

IIIXxXxXIII

Coffee; a sweet drive of blazing adrenaline washing down your throat, erasing the aches and pains of yesterday's adventures and making hopeful promises for tomorrow. Roxas held a small cup of the amazing energy packed drink in his hand, the steam floating from out of the cap only to disappear into the multi-colored horizon. A feeling of peace embraced him every few seconds, accompanied by a sip of his almond joy latte.

It was a strange feeling, settling back into his comfort zone. Roxas mingled with life and death yet still strained to keep a firm hold on reality. A blazing sunset rippled across the sky, coursing through the colors of its fiery gaze. Towering buildings sliced into the view but it all felt so comforting to Roxas. He hadn't been in this city for such a long time; he had begun to forget what it had looked like.

Old memories stirred as he jostled through the busy streets. A face here, a building there; it was all familiar, and yet it wasn't. No one paid him any mind, but he could recognize just about every face that passed him. It all seemed to be from some distant past, years and years before Roxas's time. None of it was right, but it still felt like home. It soothed him, keeping his mind at peace. He could rest easy while he was here. He would become one with this world, forever known as Twilight Town.

A bustling train, colorfully painted and bright against the sun, swept over Roxas's head going towards the station. A giant clock tower hung itself higher than any other building in the district. Twin bells, hanging from either side of the tower, swung gently back in forth on the wind's gentle air currents. For some strange reason, Roxas's mind inflicted him with the thought of ice cream.

He groaned. His ribs began to ache. Pain rippled over the area, but stopped nearly as quickly as it came. Metal clicked against the concrete below. Roxas looked down to see a silvery wire lying on the ground, appearing pale and innocent. He grimaced. Something that had caused him so much pain was so small to look at. Lately, several stitches had fallen out of the boy's skin only to fall to the earth and fly away in the breeze. Roxas was nearly used to the strange sensation of his nerves reattaching, skin repairing, and tendons binding.

Earlier in the week, Axel had shopped around to get them both some comfortable outfits. Seeing as how the Organization had such a bad reputation, they couldn't risk wearing their habitual cloak, gloves, and boots. Roxas, of course, had no clothes to speak of anyway. A coarse blanket and an over-sized spare cloak kept his body company while the teen eagerly awaited jeans and a t-shirt.

Now, Roxas was fully clothed in some Twilight Town originals but he was still susceptible to the occasional poke and grinding of the wool against his frail wounds. Roxas was constantly aware of his motions, keeping in step and timing his footfalls so pain wouldn't rack his body. Axel had run off in search of a job, something to keep the flow of munny going for the both of them. It wasn't easy living on your own with nothing but several fresh orbs stolen clean from their Superior's living quarters.

Roxas chuckled lightly at Axel's gesture of stealing from their acclaimed master. His friend's story had lasted nearly an hour, telling all about the older man's amazing adventures in pirating.

Friend.

Roxas had just called Axel his friend. Though it didn't seem possible, it was indeed a friendship between the two of them yet again. Axel's side of the story seemed plausible enough, and Roxas was willing to overlook a few mistakes on his part. The fact that Axel had risked his own life to save him awarded the man some extra points too. It was too much to ignore, and Roxas didn't believe he had a choice in the matter. There was no one else out there that he knew, or that he was capable of going to and explaining his predicament. Therefore, the only one left to care for him was Axel. It seemed logical at the time, and before long, Roxas was grateful that he had decided to stick with the older man.

The colossal bells above the teen's head began to vibrate and chime to the noon hour. He could feel the pulse come through the soil into his feet and reverberating around inside his body. Roxas looked up to the bell tower and was amazed to see the cascading rays of the sunset still staining the sky; a timeless picture forever painted upon the world.

"Roxas!"

The boy turned his fair-haired head to see his one and only companion racing down a tilted ramp. Long, black jeans and a scrappy looking black shirt adorned his tight figure accompanied by knee-high army boots and several spiked bracelets.

"Check it out Rox! Some of the guys around town let me do some free-lance stuff, and look at all the munny I made!" Axel pulled out a handful of glowing orbs to prove his truthfulness. "Looks like I won't have to put you to work after all," he said with a laugh.

"…Yeah. Good job Axel," replied Roxas monotonously. Although the teen's ears heard everything his friend had said, his gaze lingered on the setting sun, unable to switch views.

"Hey, aren't you happy for me? We'll be able to get the skateboard you were eyeing the other day. Yo, earth to Roxas!" But it was no use. Roxas's gaze was transfixed with sky above and sea below. Greens, blues, and positively brilliant yellows crowded into the picturesque scene. A number of gulls trilled out from the sea, beckoning the tourists to come and play. Axel followed Roxas's eyes and finally noticed the sunset himself.

They stood in silence, just taking it all in. There was so much to see that Roxas was afraid he'd miss something if he did so much as blink. He never realized just how much he missed this place, with its tiered landscape, lush inhabitants, and never-the-same scenery.

"Rox, let's go get some ice cream," Axel said quietly, almost in a whisper. "We can head up to our favorite spot if you want."

A few seconds later, Roxas said, "Yeah. Sounds good to me."

IIIXxXxXIII

"You remember when we first came up here?"

"Mmm."

"The boss told me there was a new guy in town. I figured I'd check it out, and there you were. I'd never met anybody who liked ice cream as much as I did."

Roxas stared down at the blue sea-salt slab of icy sugar in his hands. A favorite past-time of his was to sit up here on top of this clock tower with a few friends and savor the salty-sweet candy until there was none left. He had the same feeling being here with Axel. The sunset gleamed all around them, casting shadows right and left. Roxas let the blizzard of cold, milky sweetness slide into his mouth. He kept it there a few seconds before letting it dissipate, relishing every flavorful bite.

"It's strange," Axel started.

"What?"

"That all this had to happen. It's almost like fate has it in for us," he said with a soft smirk.

"…I know what you mean. There's so many things that the Organization had to offer. It all looked good at the time… And I went willingly into their little club," Roxas took a long pause to consider his next words. "I should've known better."

"Rox…" started Axel. But the teen was already on edge.

"I am so stupid! I can't believe I listened to that freak!" Roxas sighed, holding his free hand up to his forehead and massaging his temples.

"It's a good learning experience, Rox. The worlds are always changing, and we learn new things every day. Sometimes they're good; sometimes they're not. This one was just a bit harder on you, that's all. Don't blame yourself for what happened. Everything'll turn out all right in the end. You'll see. Just forget about it for now."

"Damnit Axel, I can't just forget it!" Roxas stood up to his full height above the tower's balcony, ignoring his companion's surprised expression. "I've still got scars all over my body for Kingdom's sake! And you expect me to forget everything that happened?" And with a quick spin of his heels, the boy headed right down the spiral staircase, out through the front door of central station, and out onto the bustling streets of his alleged home.

"Roxas! Wait!" yelled Axel, but received the cold shoulder instead of a reply. Helpless in a crowd, he scanned the heads of numerous people, in search of a single blonde one. Axel moaned in frustration. He never expected any outburst from his young friend, and now that it had happened, he wasn't too sure of what to do. "Damn that kid, where'd he go?"

But Roxas didn't want to be found; at least not for a while. The fragile teen hugged himself, careful to avoid as many wounds as possible. Though Axel didn't know it, he had struck several nerves during their conversation as well as brought up painful memories. Roxas hoped they would never bring up that subject, and now that they had, he couldn't get it out of his head. Everything that had happened in the past few weeks here in Twilight Town was washed clean and replaced with nightmares of the XIIIth Order. The slices of the cat-o-nine-tails were fresh in his mind, and Roxas thought he could feel a tingle of blood seeping out one of his scars. The teen cowered below the many peoples of this world, making sure not be seen by anyone as he crawled into an alley, plopped down behind a trash can, and let sticky, serene tears slide down his pale face.

The void in Roxas's chest grew wider. The spot where his heart should have been was nothing more than an ominous black void, reminiscent of the portals the Organization used. It was pure nothingness so deep that you'd lose yourself to it if you weren't careful. The teen wondered if anything or anyone could ever fill that gaping hole. Now that he was by himself, Roxas sensed its presence even more. Would he ever be saved from this horrid feeling?

With the back of his hand, Roxas wiped away a tear and stared at it. He had never been able to cry before; not even when he had endured his toughest trial. Nobodies weren't supposed to have feelings, so how had this tiny shard of glass water run its course? Instead of thinking on the subject, Roxas cleaned off his hand, removing whatever trace there had been of the iridescent tear. He would think later. For now, he amused himself by drawing crude pictures in the dirt with a stick.

"Well, well, well. Look what I found!"


	9. Mission Failure

I'm glad that this particular chapter didn't take as long as the other. I hope you all like.

And please, if you read this, humor me by leaving a comment. I don't know what my readers think if they don't tell me. Thank you!

KH does not belong to me, but this storyline does.

IIIXxXxXIII

Roxas backed away from the shadowy figure as quickly as humanly possible. He started to scream, but instantly felt a strong hand covering his mouth.

"Now, now, we'll have none of that," spoke the darkness.

Roxas groaned and struggled against the force of the shadow, but he couldn't prevail. It was too dark in the alley, and his opponent was too strong. To his foe, Roxas knew his eyes were wide with terror. Was this one of the Organization, come to finish the job they started? Or was it a robber, picking an innocent boy to take hostage? Roxas couldn't comprehend either one, because either one would mean another near-death experience for him.

The glossy voice of the stranger continued to shush him, yet Roxas couldn't help but put up a fight. He'd been through too much just to have someone destroy his confidence now.

With kicks, punches, a few scratches, and some muffled screaming, Roxas didn't understand how this person could still be holding on. But none of that mattered. Roxas's only objection was to gain the attention of someone on the street. They were at least twenty yards from the entrance of the bleak alleyway, but if he pushed and pulled enough, maybe he would be able to make it.

"Roxas, quit hitting me!" the figure shrieked in frustration.

Roxas froze. The shadow was speaking to him in a frightened tone, and the familiarity of it struck him suddenly and overwhelmingly. Perhaps he had heard the boy's name from someone who had once known him? Was this someone from Roxas's past, simply trying to find him? But Roxas decidedly continued kicking and screaming with all his might. If this person was someone he knew, they would have to let go of him first before he would ever give in.

The dark outline of the stranger wrestled against the teen's energy relentlessly. Roxas twisted around to try and catch a glimpse of whoever was doing this to him.

"Hey!"

A memorable voice entered the brawl. Roxas's eyes widened even farther to see a spiky haired silhouette entering the alley. The sun fell behind the figure, enlightening him as he ran towards the scene. Roxas immediately felt that his guardian angel was there to save him from an imminent death.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" screamed the angel. The light of the sun fell upon him, illuminating his face only to reveal a passionate, enraged Axel.

Within several seconds, the light of the sun wouldn't compare with the amount of fire Axel had rippling throughout the alley. Roxas's captor backed away, leaving the boy bent over and choking out smoke. He looked up at the flames licking away the walls of surrounding buildings only to leave charcoal and ash. The dumpsters and metal objects began to melt away. It was only after Roxas noticed the destruction did he turn to see the cornered stranger. Axel knelt down beside his friend, and they both looked together, straining to see through the shadowy heat.

"Demyx?"

The fires around them ceased. The silence in the air was deafening. The intense warmth from the leftover flames humidified the air.

Indeed, crouching behind a small pile of rubble and whimpering to himself, there sat Demyx, the Melodious Nocturne, wrapped up in a festering cloak that had singed away in some areas.

None of them knew what to say.

Demyx recovered faster than they thought possible, ignoring his burn marks and whipping out his sitar before any explanation could be given. Water-driven fingers laced over the instrument's strings, beginning the battle of water versus fire.

"Duck!" Axel yelled just as a wall of water flew at them at unimaginable speed. Axel grabbed Roxas and they tumbled together behind a melted stack of wreckage, just in time to avoid a jet of water cascading through the alley, knocking out a nearby brick wall.

"Roxas, stay here. I got this." Axel's hands flashed and revealed the perilous pair of chakrams he used as weapons. Without hesitation, he entered the battle, leaving Roxas behind.

Roxas cringed against the heap of cinders that was supposed to protect him. Demyx had done this? Of all the people who would come to capture them, it was Demyx! Roxas was still too surprised to even breathe. Musical notes resembling a concert pianist were forced onto the teen's ears. It was hard to believe that music – that which was supposed to calm instead of kill – was now Axel's enemy.

Out of pure curiosity, Roxas could help but peak over the splinters and watch the melee from afar. He saw Axel slide backwards as another jet stream wailed at him, try as he might to block it. Bodies of water with human shapes fell over him as well, making him fight the same figure over and over again.

"Face it, pyro! You can't beat me!" cried Demyx triumphantly. Even from this far, Roxas could see Axel beginning to falter in his stances, loosen up his techniques, and exhausting his strength.

_He can't do this alone, _Roxas realized. Several ideas crossed his mind at the same time. It was risky, and the teen wasn't even sure if he had the vigor fight. Was it too reckless on his part to participate so injured?

Axel let out a small cry of annoyance as another wave came after him. With the speed of a cheetah, he jumped and began scaling a wall, seemingly running sideways across the bricks. Roxas gasped; he had never seen Axel use that move before, and apparently neither had Demyx. The water that had been chasing Axel fell to the ground as the lesser of the two broke his concentration. The musician only had to fail in his music once to let Axel take advantage of him.

And that was exactly what he did. An extremely powerful eruption of flame surged after Demyx, intent on destroying anything in its path. He dropped his sitar as a look of horror crossed the poor boy's face, making him look five years old again.

"Oh shi-!"

And then, nothing; not a single noise crossed the barrier of silence that emanated from the obvious battle arena.

Axel panted heavily, chakrams still in hand. A patch of water had whipped across his back, ripping fabric and revealing a white and red welt. Other than that, Axel was unscathed.

With another heavy breath, Axel turned back to his friend without a second glance to his defeated opponent. He closed his eyes, his face slathered with fury. A bright flash of light released his chakrams from existence.

Roxas fell back against the brush, stunned by what he had just witnessed.

"Rox, Rox! Wake up, man," Axel said lightly as he shook Roxas by the shoulder. His friend looked as if he was in a lavish daydream. "Come on, we better get moving. They could be sending more."

"Axel…"

"Yeah?"

"You…you killed…" Roxas trailed off. He couldn't bring himself to admit the sad truth of reality. The one person he relied on had just killed without a whim. Axel didn't seem to enjoy it, but what made him take a life so easily?

"He's not dead Rox. He'll be fine here. Some of the locals will find him sooner or later."

As if to emphasize Axel's words, slight groans and coughs of pain emitted from the other end of the alley.

"Axel! We're not going to just leave him!"

"Oh yes we are. He tried to capture you Rox. If he dies, he dies. We've got to move." Axel pulled at the teen's arm, trying to lead him away from the sight of death he had just created with his fireworks, but Roxas would not move.

Axel looked down. Roxas stared in disbelief at his so-called friend; the one who had just days before saved his life. But now he would do nothing, not even to rescue a fellow companion.

Roxas stood up and walked away from Axel, hating the decision the older man had just tried to make. He couldn't understand Axel's decrees of judgment and refused to leave an old friend here to die. It was obviously the same for Axel. He stared after Roxas, an accusing look in his eyes.

The teen stood over the gruesome scene, enraged at the destruction that had been caused. Blood spattered in careless patterns across the brick, stone, and rubble. Water mixed in with the red liquid, making them indistinguishable from each other. Small flecks of a yellowy substance mingled with the rest; Roxas wasn't sure, but he guessed that it was scorched skin. Blackened bricks had fallen apart in the surrounding area, making it difficult to walk without tripping. Careful blue eyes fell upon the worst of the scene, where a mangled body lay covered in dust, blood, and dirty water.

Roxas shied away for a small second, having light flashbacks of his tortures. He could feel the nausea in his stomach beginning to escalate, but he held it down. Cautiously, Roxas kneeled down next to Demyx's pale, frightened figure. The older man was holding desperately onto his sitar, which lay beside him at an odd angle; it was as if the instrument was Demyx's only means of life, the only thing tying his spirit to the earth. Roxas looked over the damage, sympathy watering his eyes down.

Light scratches fell over the musician's arms, legs, and face. Demyx's breathing was sparse and erratic; Roxas was surprised that he was still alive. Chunks of cloth had been stripped away from his coat, leaving hardly any left to cover his body. The majority of it lay over his waist and stomach, but the rest had been blown away by the flames. Roxas gingerly reached over Demyx's chest, staring at a massive wound that stretched from one end of his torso to the other. Blood christened the outer edges, and Roxas cringed; he thought some of it might've easily been the underlying nerves and muscle.

"Step back, Roxas," Axel said. Roxas hadn't even been aware of his comrade joining him by Demyx's side.

"No Axel! I told you, we're not going to leave him." Roxas was starting to cough as he inhaled the fumes left over by the fires. It made him feel even sicker.

"I never said that, now did I? Now step back before you start to throw up all over him." Axel gently pushed Roxas out of the way. Axel had begun to realize that guilt had overrun him, and now it was his job to fix the mess he had originally made.

"What are you doing?"

"Healing him."

"What?! You never even _tried_ to heal me!"

"Because we had no time! Now shut the hell up!"

Roxas shrank back and said nothing. He only watched, closely, as Axel laid his hands tenderly over Demyx's extensive injury, leaving the smaller ones alone. Axel shut his eyes, deeply set in concentration. The muscles in his arms rippled and tightened. Within mere seconds, a faint light, much like the rays that emanated from Kingdom Hearts, was released through the palms of Axel's hands. Demyx's eyelids began to flutter, his face grimacing with pain. Axel focused much harder than before as sweat began to drift down his forehead. Roxas observed the scenario, wavering every time he saw the injury wash back over and form newly brandished skin. The light gave way to nothing but a dim luster and, finally, Axel released his intensive meditation, exhaling greatly with the effort.

Roxas glanced quickly from Demyx to Axel and back again. Wide eyes betrayed his suspense. The gash that had been bleeding incessantly earlier was now completely healed over. No trace of the mark had been left except for the leftover blood and dust, which was beginning to dry.

Axel turned to Roxas and saw him gaping.

"Roxas?" But the boy didn't move. He was completely amazed. Demyx coughed lightly several times, moving their attention to the musician. Slowly, his eyes wafted open. They were completely blank for some time till he finally showed signs of consciousness. Demyx quickly froze under the glance of Axel and Roxas, frightened beyond belief. He raised his hands in front of his face, blocking their view.

"No! Leave me alone! I didn't want to!"

"Demyx, Demyx! Calm down, we're not going to hurt you," replied Roxas, trying desperately to calm the anxious man. Gradually, Demyx lowered his arms, his face full of doubt.

"…Wh…What?" It was then that the musician noticed his mutilation cured. He traced his fingers over the once broken ribs and dismantled skin, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. "How…?"

"Zexion showed me a few tricks back at the castle," said Axel. "Hope you don't mind."

Demyx stared at Axel and steadily his expression grew into a startled rage.

"You…"

"Don't even get into it with me," Axel began. "You started it. Just because I finished it doesn't mean you have to get bitchy with me."

Demyx recoiled, and realized his mistake. "Yeah…You're right. I just… I didn't mean…"

"Dem, don't worry about it," said Roxas, his voice smooth despite it all. "Just tell us what happened. Why did you attack us?"

"Well, I just…The Superior, he… He ordered me to take out the threat, and that was you two, so I…" Demyx had calmed down but his anguish was still evident. He gazed over at this sitar and finally released it from his hand. It vanished in a flash. Then, he turned back to Axel and Roxas. "I had no choice."

IIIXxXxXIII


	10. Tension

My god, I hope you all are still with me!

It's been waaaaaaay too long since this story was updated. That's entirely my fault. But I think you guys know what happens when life decides to throw you on a rollercoaster bound for nowhere'sville. Its crazy; its stupid; yet somehow fun at the same time.

Anyway, a million apologies won't be enough for you all, so here's the newest chapter of Roxas's story. Btw, please check my bio for some new updates. AND PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW ON YOUR WAY OUT!

(**THE STORY SO FAR**: Roxas was forced back into the Organization, on acount of his crimes to his Superior. He was tortured relentlessly by his own friend, Axel, who did so with tears rolling down his face. The healer, Zexion, kept Roxas from death, but in the end, Axel was the one who saved Roxas from The World That Never Was. Saix attempted to stop them, but was ran over with Axel's stolen vehicle of choice; a motorcycle emblazened with the name Fenrir on the side. Then, in a second chance at bringing the traitor Roxa back, the Melodious Nocturne fought with Axel, but failed miserably. Now, the tension rises in the midst of old friends...)

IIIXxXxXIII

The fire in front of them crackled with heat. Axel had managed to haul several small chunks of broken cinder, arrange them neatly, and start a well-deserved spark.

The trio gathered around the ashes, each of them to their respective places. It was obvious that Demyx was keeping his distance from Axel; it was reasonable considering what had happened. Roxas folded his knees together and sat near Demyx but close enough to Axel so as not to offend him. As a sign of peace between the Nobodies, Axel handed Demyx his old Organization cloak to replace the burnt one that lay a few paces behind them. The teen shivered in the heat of the fire and wrapped the cloak around his dry shoulders gratefully.

"So...," began Roxas, the only one brave enough to speak. "Where to begin. It looks like we all have some explaining to do." Axel didn't notice Roxas's eyes flit towards him.

Another silent moment. The chilly air filled the space between the three of them.

"Look," Demyx said with a heavy breath. "I seriously had no choice, okay? Be mad at me all you want, but you know how it is when the boss threatens your existence!"

"Don't worry about that Dem. That's over now."

"Still doesn't make me feel any better," he replied, scrunching tightly beneath the warm cloak.

"What happened exactly?" asked Axel. He was cross-legged, arms folded, and not looking altogether pleasant, but his voice remained calm.

"Well, I guess the pressure just kept on piling up until I was voted onto the mission. No one else wanted to do it; they all had better things on their mind apparently."

Roxas whispered to himself. "I can believe that."

"It wasn't like I volunteered for this. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't have taken the mission so lightly. But I had no idea you two had taken out Saix. Man! Talk about your men on the run!"

"Skip to the good stuff Demyx. We already knew about that," Axel said.

"Oh…um…Well, first the superior told me to head to Hollow Bastion. When you weren't there, he wasn't too happy. So, he sent me here. Told me to bring back Roxas alive, and," he looked at Axel, "Take out any resistance."

"Oh really? And that's your reason for fighting me?"

"…Yes."

Axel sighed loudly. The reality of the situation set in slowly. They were wanted men now, Roxas especially. How could they possibly take on the Organization?

With another loud huff of air, Axel stood. "Well, looks like we're in this together now."

"What?"

"What are you talking about Axel?" said Roxas.

"We need to get moving if we're going to stay ahead of the rest of them. Roxas, you'll have to stay as inconspicuous as possible. We'll have to change your clothes obviously, and we might have to cut your hair too. Demyx, you're on defense, got it?"

"Whoa whoa whoa! Slow down! Who said anything about me staying with you two? I've got a job to do and–"

"And if the rest of the gang finds out you failed, who's going to get the brunt of the punishment?"

Demyx's head started to swirl. He never thought of it like that.

"I uh…I see where you're coming from." The musician stared hard into the flames. Axel was right. His existence was no more important than theirs now. "I…I don't really have anywhere else to go, so...yeah."

Pacing, Axel considered their circumstances. A change of outfits was definitely needed if they were going to blend in. One of them would probably have to change names, hairstyle, or possibly, Axel would have to get his tattoos removed. Either way, they had to get rid of their cloaks.

"Alright, we need to get a good nights' rest before we do anything else. Suggestions?"

Demyx was the first. "How about the local inn? Not a bad place I hear."

"Okay, anything else?" No one spoke up. "Inn it is. Who's got the cash?"

Roxas held up the bag of munny. It was bulging at the sides, but they would have to keep the majority of it saved for emergencies. Roxas saw a flash of greed wash over Axel, but it passed quickly. _Guess I have to be wary of everyone, now_, he thought.

A blaze of lightning swept across the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. The three of them had been oblivious to the coming storm and now it was right on top of them. The coming rain was so evident now that they could actually smell the wetness in the air; especially Demyx, being the only water expert among them.

"We should be going," the taller blonde said.

"Yeah," agreed the smaller.

Axel stood, wiped off some dust that had gathered at the back of his black jeans, and casually crossed his arms. The other two didn't seem to notice. Roxas was starting to doubt his intentions – he could see it in the boy's face – while Demyx was cautious to begin with. Each of them was beginning to grow suspicious of the other. It was going to be a very, very long night.

"Then let's not waste anymore time."

IIIXxXxXIII

Twilight Town had only one inn to offer. It was a drab, old-fashioned place with very few available rooms. The woman at the front desk looked almost as ancient as the building itself. She directed them to the second floor after handing Axel a pair of rusted keys.

"And how long will you gentleman be staying with us?" she said before they trekked up the stairs. They were three teenagers, covered in dust, sprayed with blood, with ripped clothes and scratches all over. Lucky for them, she couldn't see very well.

"Just for the night," replied Axel.

"Very well then." The lady smiled through thick glasses. Demyx, the last one in line, smiled back.

The room was drabber still. Two full beds with brown comforters and brown pillows, a large couch with a brown and white pattern, a lonely lamp, and an antique TV with buttons instead of a remote. The walls clearly hadn't been painted in many years.

Still, the boys were grateful for a warm bed and soft blankets. And even though they wouldn't say it out loud, they were just as grateful to not have to share a bed.

But the real question on their mind was…who gets the couch?

They were all just standing in the doorway, waiting for nothing in particular. It was tense, until Roxas moved.

He sat on the couch, evidently claiming it as his own. With his hands in his lap, Roxas' sky-blue eyes gazed at the floor, ignoring the others. He was solemn, possibly even depressed, but he was definitely in his own world for a while. He would toy with his thoughts, play with old memories, and cache the unpleasant ones. Roxas propped his feet up on one side of the bland colored sofa and lay his head on the other. Now, he would stare at the ceiling for a time.

Demyx and Axel nodded in agreement. Some silence would be good for all of them; give them time to relax as well as think.

Choosing the closest bed, Demyx curled into a ball, like a dog lying on its favorite pillow. His hair was ruffled, his clothes messed up, but he didn't care. Four square walls and a blanket were all he needed.

Axel had no choice in picking the farthest bed. It faced a large, curtained window which gave him a view of the clock tower. The outside storm busied itself with currents of rain and wind. A low rumble of thunder vibrated through the floor, taking on the sound of volcano erupting. Axel felt his legs shake with it.

Spreading his long legs over the sheets and lacing his fingers behind his hair, Axel decided he was content for the time being. He was careful not to position too much of his weight on the small welt Demyx had given him and he didn't really have too many clothes to spare after giving up his cloak. However, the bed itself was pretty comfortable, the room wasn't terribly exciting, but they'd all had enough of excitement for a while. The pitter-patter of rain on glass was somewhat peaceful, too. It soothed over Axel's vibrant nerves and calmed his rattling brain.

Peace, and quiet.

_Music to my ears_.

Soon enough, the smallest blonde began to snore. It was a soft sound; not annoying of course, but it betrayed the boy's tendency to fall asleep almost instantly.

"That was quick," Axel whispered into the air.

"Uh-huh."

_Damn. I thought he was asleep too._

Axel held still; he wasn't sure whether to ignore Demyx, or speak back. Perhaps quiet would be better…

"You care about him a lot, don't you?"

_What?_ "What are you talking about?"

"Roxas; he's your best friend, right?" Thankfully, Demyx's back was facing Axel. Nobodies didn't have emotion; this was a well known fact. However, Axel was having a hard controlling the seemingly fake emotions that continued to rise. At the moment, he was experiencing pain, anger at Demyx's intrusion on his personal life, and confusion. Yes, Roxas _was_ his best friend, but what was Demyx getting at?

"…Why else would I help him, Dem? He needed somebody, anybody." Axel chose his words carefully. He didn't want to make Demyx seem left out, or inferior to Roxas. "…What happened to you was nothing personal. But, he needed protecting."

"I know, and I know what I did was stupid. I should've known right away following the boss' orders would get me in trouble."

Axel laughed. Demyx was _always_ in trouble. Whether it was for fun or on accident, the blond constantly found himself in sticky situations. It was usually he or Roxas that ended up helping him out of them. But it hadn't been that way today. Everything had gone wrong; everyone had blamed everyone, and the blood continued to spill. They couldn't continue like this. Despite the wounds, hatred, and guilt, no one was truly at fault that day. The Superior, who had given out every bloody order since Roxas' torture date, was the one responsible.

…_He will pay._

"He's like your little brother, I guess."

"You could say that. But…I don't think he trusts me right now."

Demyx shuffled underneath his blankets. _Yeah…I don't really trust you either._

It wasn't long until the musician had nodded off too. Pulling a hand out from beneath his head, Axel stared at it. Hard.

Hundreds of near invisible lines were etched into it; some from age, some from usage over time. An equally invisible pattern covered all five fingers, making a human blueprint out of his own skin. An old scar crossed his thumb; a knife had sliced him while he had tried – for the first and only time – to learn how to cook. He wondered if it would ever go away, or if he'd have it the rest of his life.

_Guess only time will tell._

Though Nobodies weren't human, they were still destined to live a normal life span. Given that they weren't meant to exist, this small little miracle let them live like real people. After, that was what they wished for in the first place.

Axel continued to look at the scratches that were woven into his mortal skin. Some were from old fights, some weren't. Most of them were from his battle today. It was amazing how easily flesh could be torn.

_Demyx…he lost so much blood today…it's a wonder he's still alive._

He cringed when he thought about what kind of hurt his pyrotechnics could do. He had nearly caused an old friend to die by his hands, by his weapons. And to top it off, he'd dismissed the whole scenario like it was dust off his shoulders, like it was nothing more than trash. The old Axel would never have done something so careless; the old Axel had so much more to do in life.

The old Axel…probably didn't exist anymore…

…_What have I become?_

IIIXxXxXIII


End file.
